


So Young a Body

by Mara



Category: Kamen Rider Ghost
Genre: M/M, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 13:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8250529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mara/pseuds/Mara
Summary: Both Alain and Makoto are hopelessly uneducated about some things, which usually isn't a problem. Until it is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This premise may be contradicted by something in canon, but I really don't care. Besides, the whole story is somewhat AU because its timing is impossible. ::throws hands in the air:: I just wanted to write it, okay?

It all started because of a book.

Well, not _a_ book, so much as a series. Not a book series, per se, but a manga series.

A very particular kind of manga series, in fact. Yes, exactly the kind you're thinking of. Mm-hmm. The ones on the upper shelf.

Nobody would ever take the blame (or credit, depending on your point of view) for leaving the series tucked into a dark corner of the temple's library. After all, not every book in that room was spiritual or even intellectual. (Although the debate over what Takeru's dad would have said if he'd found this manga tucked behind two leatherbound copies of Ame ni mo Makezu raged long into the night.)

Nonetheless, a very restless and bored Alain found these books while randomly moving items around on the shelves to avoid having to try and sleep. They definitely didn't look like anything else on the nearby shelves, with their bright colors and pictures of very pretty people on the cover.

Confused, Alain picked one up and brought it closer to a light to get a better look. It was definitely not another volume of Buddhist poetry, so he sat down and opened to the first page. The book was about a young man who worked at a flower shop (why did they sell flowers in stores?) and there was another man who came as a customer.

The book was very odd. The two men's interactions made little sense to Alain, as if there was an entire other conversation going on that he was missing. And then they were alone and the older man grabbed the younger one and smashed their lips together!

Alain dropped the book in surprise. He'd seen people here in the human world do that once or twice, but he'd never figured out what they were doing. Well, now might be his chance.

They smashed their lips together some more and then…licked each other? Alain wrinkled his nose, trying to figure out if they were going to bite next. They didn't, but then they started to take off clothing and then they touched each other.

It sounded weird and looked even weirder. Alain knew he should put the book down and just not worry about this strange human habit. But for some reason he couldn't stop looking. And the more clothing the men took off and the stranger their positions looked, the weirder Alain felt. He was…warm. Yes, he was sweating and the pit of his stomach had a strange feeling. It was something like the first time he had felt what they called fear, but it was different. Shivering all over, he made himself put the book down. 

This could not be healthy, he decided. He put the book back on the shelf, pulled the Buddhist poetry back in front, and stomped out of the room to find someone to spar with.

* * *

That resolve lasted a total of 36 hours, before Alain found himself wondering what happened next. Whatever had happened to him had gone away as soon as he left, so surely a few more minutes would be fine.

It took only a few moments to find his place in the book, turn a page and find that one of the men was putting his penis _inside the other_. Alain stared in shock, a small detached part of him noticing that he felt warm again. Shifting in his seat, he realized that his own penis was growing larger. It was like the need to pee, but not. Throwing the book back into place, he ran.

Sitting in the garden (he was _not_ hiding, absolutely not), he tried to figure out who he could ask about this. Akari was most likely to have a scientific explanation, but was just as likely to punch him as explain things. Onari and the acolytes…no. He just wasn't comfortable enough with them.

He was quite certain this wasn't something to ask Kanon about, even if he wasn't still enjoying her belief in how wonderful he was. 

Which left him with Takeru and Makoto. He pondered the two men, thinking of Takeru's ease with everyone. Perhaps he would be the most sensible person. But his comfort level with Makoto…he immediately visualized the other man in his mind. The way his stern expression would lighten just the tiniest bit when he was amused. How when he focused on you, you had all of his attention.

Alain shifted on the rock, swallowing sharply. His stomach felt funny again and he was a little light-headed. Maybe he needed to eat something before he thought about this more. Surely takoyaki would help.

* * *

"You look troubled, young man," Grandma Fumi said, sitting beside him on the bench and handing him his food.

Alain gave a sharp nod.

"I haven't seen you with Kanon lately. Maybe it's love problems that have you looking so down?"

"Love?" Alain looked up from the takoyaki.

"Spending less time with the girlfriend isn't a good sign." She shook her head, the paused and examined him. "But maybe it's not love trouble. Is it the sex?"

Blinking, Alain stared at her. "What?"

Throwing her head back, Grandma Fumi laughed. "Oh, you youngsters always look shocked that we even know what sex is. I do have a granddaughter, you know!"

"What does she have to do with anything?"

She smacked his knee, laughing harder. "You are a funny man. I'm glad you came to my cart." Standing, she went back to work.

Alain stared after her. Sex? The word was vaguely familiar, but…what did it have to do with him and Kanon?

* * *

Lying on his futon that night, his mind wouldn't stop showing him flashes of the pictures and his body felt funny all over. Tossing and turning, he finally gave up and crept out of the room to sit on the temple steps, looking up at the bright moon.

It was only a few moments before he recognized Makoto's footsteps behind him. Alain couldn't decide whether he was relieved or panicked, but he waited as Makoto sat beside him.

"Are you well?" Makoto asked.

Alain opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I'm not sure," he said eventually. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Makoto turn his head and frown. "It's this inconvenient human body," he said.

"Hmm."

"It's very confusing."

"Mmm."

"I was reading a book which made my body feel funny. And then Grandma Fumi started talking about something called sex."

The sound Makoto made was indescribable. It was something like a cough, something like a yelp, with some part of a sneeze mixed in.

Alain turned to look at him. "What? Don't tell me you know what that is."

"I…yes." Makoto blinked. "In theory. Wait, what book?"

"In the temple library. With people doing weird things to each other and I don't know why my body feels this way. You will explain this to me."

Makoto didn't even look like he was breathing.

"What?"

Makoto finally managed to answer. "I think I need to see the book."

* * *

Fortunately, they were both quite skilled at moving silently, so nobody was awakened as they went through the halls to the library. Turning on one lamp, Alain found the book shoved where he had left it and handed it to Makoto. They sat down against the shelf, right under the light and Makoto opened the book gingerly.

Alain waited impatiently as Makoto paged through, also looking startled when the men mashed their lips together. As Alain sat, he realized he and Makoto were really very close together. His arm was rubbing against the smooth leather of Makoto's outfit, in fact. And their knees were touching. It felt…nice.

He was startled to realize that he was leaning closer, his head almost bumping Makoto's as they looked down at the book. Which was why he heard Makoto's breathing spike when the book's characters touched each other.

Alain looked at the book again and then it happened. He imagined that the two men were him and Makoto, with him bent back against the couch and Makoto's long fingers…

Gasping, Alain looked up at Makoto, whose face was red and sweaty.

"I don't…" Makoto licked his lips. "Did you show this to Grandma Fumi?"

"No!"

Shaking his head, he muttered something about her being a witch under his breath. "This…this is sex. I guess. I've never…I didn't know…"

It felt as if his brain had been hit with a bolt of electricity. "She thought I was…with Kanon?"

Makoto stared at him.

Alain stared back, his brain still processing the fact that the thought of such activities with Kanon made him feel slightly ill, but the thought of doing them with Makoto…his body was starting to feel strange again. Without another word, he bolted out of the room.

* * *

Alain started to take off for the waterfront, before realizing that was the first place anyone would look for him. Well, maybe the second. Instead he walked toward town, the moonlight thankfully enough to keep him from falling and breaking any bits of this ridiculous human body.

Blanking his mind, he walked until he was finally tired, then found an alley, where he leaned against a wall and dozed off.

Sunlight hit his eyes approximately a second before a broom smacked down on his head. A little old lady waved it at him. "What are you doing? Out out!"

Glaring regally, Alain stood and left the alley, trying not to look like he was running. Outrage at his treatment got him most of the way down the street before he realized he had no idea what to do now. He couldn't go back to the temple right now. It was too strange, these images in his head, and he couldn't do anything that might make Makoto hate him.

Not after everything he had done. He had to get himself under control.

Sitting on a bench under a tree, he pulled his knees to his chin.

"Alain!"

Head jerking up, Alain stared at Takeru, running down the street toward him. "You!"

"Please don’t run away," Takeru said, bent over, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

"I'm not." Alain sniffed in disdain.

"We've been looking for you for hours," Takeru went on. "Makoto woke everyone up, insisting there was something wrong and we had to find you."

Alain stared at him.

Takeru smiled. "I don't know what's going, but Makoto is very worried."

"He's not angry?"

"No." Takeru studied him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Alain shook his head.

"Well, if you change your mind…" Sighing, Takeru gestured behind him. "At least will you come back and reassure Makoto that you're okay and not captured by Ivan or injured by Javert?"

"I suppose."

* * *

Returning to the temple was a bizarre experience. Everyone flocked around him, touching him, chattering away about how they were glad he was safe. Everyone but Makoto, who glowered at everyone equally. Alain found himself abnormally aware of Makoto's every movement as he tried to fend off the concerned Onari, who seemed to be trying to remove his clothing to check if he was hurt.

"Enough!" Alain yelled finally. 

Takeru smiled from behind Shibuya. "C'mon, everyone, let's get back to work."

Makoto didn't move from his position a few feet away, face back to its usual blank, emotionless state. Alain felt dizzy, remembering when he had _preferred_ Makoto like that, when he'd believed that it was the proper state of being.

Alain found that he didn't know _what_ he believed any longer. He didn't realize he was swaying in place until Makoto had already caught his arm and hauled him upright.

"Have you eaten a proper meal? Or slept more than an hour?" Makoto asked, frowning down at him.

Alain scowled back. "Yes."

"Recently?"

"Define recently."

Makoto actually growled, dragging him by the arm into the temple. Everyone was carefully not looking at them and it was infuriating. Once again, he had the feeling that everyone else was having an entirely different conversation.

Digging in his heels, Alain stopped before they entered the kitchen. "What are you doing?"

"Keeping you alive." Makoto's tone clearly implied he was incapable of the task himself.

Shaking his arm free of Makoto's grip, Alain glared. 

Makoto crossed his arms and glared back. "You ran off."

Alain looked away. It was a fair point, after all. 

"Why?"

"I didn't know what else to do." Alain said slowly, still unable to meet Makoto's gaze.

"The book…" Makoto let out a careful breath. "Did you want to do those things with me?"

Alain's head whipped around without his conscious permission, his mouth falling open in an attempt at denial, delay, distraction, _anything_. But his ridiculous brain failed him and he just stood there, looking like an idiot.

"I did," Makoto said. "Want to."

"Oh."

"I told you I would wait until you knew what you wanted," Makoto said.

"I didn't know this is what you meant!" Alain said through gritted teeth. "I thought you meant…I don't know, something else! I didn't learn about bodily functions. Why would I?"

"You're right, I should have realized." Makoto shook his head. 

They stood in the hallway and stared at each other for long enough for it to be mortifying. Alain felt his face get warm and he cursed his human body for the millionth time. "I don't know how to do this."

"And you think I do? I lived in the Ganma world as well, remember?" Makoto's lips twitched into that tiny smile that made Alain's stomach feel funny. "But I…looked some things up. And we can learn together."

"Oh." Alain swallowed.

Stepping forward, Makoto loomed over Alain and Alain felt his breathing speed up as Makoto leaned in, pressing his lips against Alain's. It was a little weird, but nice. Remembering the book, Alain opened his mouth, which was weirder, but still nice. They spent some time trying to figure out what to do with noses and tongues and teeth. 

A footstep down the hall recalled them to where they were and Makoto grabbed Alain's arm again. This time, he followed the other man willingly. After all, since Makoto had spent part of his childhood in the temple, surely he would know where to go.

They stopped several times to mash their lips together, which Makoto informed him was called kissing. It seemed to get nicer each time they did it.

Eventually, they stumbled into a room and Makoto slid the door closed and then they were doing the kissing thing some more. Makoto managed to slide out of his jacket and yank Alain's cape over his head and that was good too. It turned out it also felt really nice to have someone's fingers in your hair and touching your head.

When he was again paying attention to his surroundings, Alain realized they were lying down next to each other on the futon. It made his stomach feel funnier, but he reached out his hand (which had been clutching a shoulder) to touch Makoto's hip. The leather was warm and smooth and he carefully stroked up and down. To his surprise, Makoto gasped and he yanked his hand back.

"No!" Makoto reached for him. "It wasn't bad. Just surprising." He put his own hand on Alain's hip and mimicked the motion.

Alain heard a moan and realized it was him. He hastily reached out to touch Makoto again, wanting him to feel good as well. He pushed Makoto's shirt out of the way and rubbed his stomach. 

About this time, he noticed the bulge in Makoto's pants and he looked down at his own. 

"It's okay," Makoto said. "That's what it's supposed to do."

"Oh."

Makoto slowly moved his hand down until he was touching the front of Alain's pants and oh, that was good. That was very very good. That was better than takoyaki.

Alain tried to touch Makoto in the same way, but the leather pants were just in the way. After a lot of wiggling and squirming and accidental elbowing, they managed to get their pants open. Alain closed his eyes because this was all embarrassing and he didn't know what to do now.

But when Makoto touched him without clothing in the way, Alain's eyes flew open and he yelped. Then Makoto's lips were back on his and they were both touching each other and there wasn't enough oxygen left to be embarrassed.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced, a feeling of climbing endlessly, breath coming faster and heart pounding in his chest and then relief and he cried out, face buried in Makoto's chest.

For a long moment, they both caught their breath and then Alain pulled back, staring down at his sticky hand in dismay. "You didn't tell me about this part! Bodies are disgusting."

Makoto just sighed.

\--end--

**Author's Note:**

> I get almost all my story titles from searching Bartlett's Familiar Quotations. It's usually an easy process, but it turns out when you use "body" as your keyword, the results can be, well, unfortunate. So, I bring you a few of the rejected titles for this story:
> 
> Here in the Body Pent (Two lines later in the poem is "yet nightly pitch my moving tent", which…yeah.)  
> Damp, Moist, Unpleasant Body  
> With a Body Filled  
> A Faultless Body and a Blameless Mind  
> Not Body Enough  
> The Body Sprang at Once to the Height (Really? Wow.)  
> Though His Body's Under Hatches


End file.
